If you sat down next to me and asked me what family meant to me, would you want to hear me say that it’s all kittens and rainbows, love and being there for one another? People who always have your back? That would be nice to hear wouldn’t it? Too bad I’m not here to tell you any version like that. My family deserves to be a reality tv show with how fucked up we are. There’s room for everyone.
I am a doll. I am soft, squishy, and cuddly like a doll. I am also the box that the doll comes in. An impregnable fortress of zip ties and cardboard that help protect my vulnerability. I am a doll. No longer judged for my body, but in replacement, my face. My face that has been sewn into one emotion. Neutral, or happy. the happy persona is the one I tend to wear the most. Neutral is just there as a friendly host. Tight, straight-lipped, but eyes so happy. A toy that children leave in the rain. A squishy, no longer cuddly wet mess, tired and drained. But they can never show it. They can never show it. Always smiling and making the same old face.